


What’s A Soulmate? (it’s like a best friend but more.)

by vinnywrites



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Modern Setting, Werewolf Adora, Witch Catra, it barely focuses on that tho lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27377989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinnywrites/pseuds/vinnywrites
Summary: "It’s a question if the line of tension will snap, or how the gravity that is stitched in Adora’s skin yearns for the stars in Catra’s chest, or how they longed for their fingers to finally interlock, or how much they wished to press their lips against one another as they exchange the most sweetest of poisons, or how much they didn’t care if they were bad for one another and if it meant salvation to leave each other alone, they would run through hell with a bright grin and wide eyes and lion blood in their veins."Or, Catra confesses through magic.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 126





	What’s A Soulmate? (it’s like a best friend but more.)

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter, @vinnytweets, and on tumblr, @vinnyposts. Inspired by poems of a poet on tumblr, @pencap.
> 
> Also if you’re wondering why this is set to mature — I am ✨ paranoid ✨ and set it to mature just in case.

**What’s A Soulmate? (it’s like a best friend but more.)** by _vinnywrites_

_***_

  
  
  


_But I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You_ / **PART** **ONE** /

  
  


The hovering moonlight is peaking through the trees, providing a scarce source of light to the small town named Etheria, especially to the town's biggest school — Mystacor. It was lightly drizzling, the tears of the clouds were falling down to the Earth and kissing the summer leaves of the trees with faces, the dark brown bark that it was born with had lines that twisted and curved that resembled facial expressions that the town's inhabitants carry. The street lamps do not provide much light as the moon, creating a more yellow hue that decorate streets instead of the moon's light hue that resembles the color of the feathers of the wings of angels. 

It was already summer, and approaching the end of the school year and the beginning of summer. Seniors were celebrating with the schools annual party — the Summer Prom. Donned in expensive clothes that they will never wear again and leave rotting in the back of their closet carrying memories of prom night, and shoes that hurt their feet to the point that they debated throwing them away while glitter covered their smiling faces, their arms in the air as they shouted to their heart's content, already visioning a life outside of their small hometown and into the heart of the cities where the colleges they applied to lay. 

However, one teenage girl was not having as much fun as the others. She wasn’t in some pretty dress or shoes that hurt her feet, she wasn’t even at her high school — but rather in the middle of the woods, admiring the way that the full moon looked behind the wicked and twisted branches of the trees that, for once, had smiling faces. She was dressed in more casual clothing than anything, baggy jeans that were incredibly ripped to the point to showed more of her toned legs than covered it, a simple black crop top and oversized red flannel that she stole from a store called _Adora Glenn’s Closet_. She was sitting on the dirt ground, and even while she was admiring the moons beauty, the hands in her lap twitched and ached as they created random and glowing sparks that would follow the pollen that it exhibited a white color as it glowed underneath the moons embrace. 

Most teenage girls look forward to prom, and despite popular belief, Catra had looked forward to dressing in all too expensive dress that she will never wear again, cake her face in multiple layers of makeup and face paint and glitter, and imagine the crown of prom royalty decorating her head at the end of the night. But someone needed to watch Adora until sunrise, because she was always a little more reckless in her wolf form than her human one — _surprisingly_. 

Many would expect Catra Prime to scoff at the idea of proms and homecomings, and she did too — all of her life she had attended overly expensive galas, fancy dinners and the like — but it was mostly the memories of prom that she was after than standing under the never ending changing lights. She was looking forward to spiking the punch and getting drunk with her friends and dancing uncontrollably in the middle of the dance floor, soon migrating to an empty table and collapsing onto the classroom chairs that were covered in a white cloth in an attempt to make it fancy and talk shit about their fellow peers or even discuss magic or celebrate the fact that many of their last year in Etheria there wasn’t any supernatural drama. Then maybe they would all crash at Catra’s house, since it was the biggest, or go out of town to look for a fast food restaurant to get drunk at and wake up with terrible migraines in a hotel room that they barely recognize. 

Alas, here she was, leaning against a fallen and cut down tree as she counted the amount of stars in the sky, her ears often blessed with an occasional thundering howl that would come out of nowhere. When the howl echoed in the empty forest air, she couldn’t help but let a small and sad smile make its way onto her lips. She wasn’t the only one that’s longing for prom memories, both she and Adora had to miss it because someone needed to watch Adora because of the full moon. 

Time is an illusion and the only proof she has of that when her phone starts buzzing, and when she takes it out of her pocket, she’s getting messages from all of their friends around three in the morning, absolutely destroyed on alcohol and in a Wendy’s restaurant that must’ve taken them hours to get to it, because the nearest Wendy’s from Etheria is about three hours away while you can just drive to a McDonald’s or a Burger King in twenty minutes, Chipotle in thirty. Their friends never really were the brightest. 

She smiled softly at the incoherent messages from drunk fingers that were sent to her, and saved the images of the blurry selfies that they took of themselves to her photo album in her phone. Even Mermista couldn’t string together a coherent sentence or take a good selfie — she was just as wasted as the rest of them. 

Before she knew it, as she started playing more with magic than counting constellations, the dark sky started to lighten. Catra had loved sunrises, seeing all the red and Orange bleeding into one another, the pink complimenting the sky — it was a breathtaking sight to anyone with a stable mind, but to be awake during a sunrise? That wasn’t exactly her cup of tea. 

Soon, the bushes nearby rustled and a large and towering figure emerged, pulling on a shirt as she did so. She collapsed next to Catra, said girl digging into her pockets and pulling out an elastic band, making the blonde girl mumble her thanks as she rushed to put her hair into a ponytail. A light and weak layer of sweat decorated her muscular frame, her golden strands that erupted from her scalp were slightly damp and her cheeks were decorated with a pale pink, but despite the obvious exhaustion underneath her eyes and in her bones, she had still managed to smile. 

“You’re forehead will get bigger if you keep tying it into that ponytail,” Catra said and poked the middle of Adora’s forehead, making the taller and older girl release a breathless laugh. 

“No sympathy for your personal mutt even at five in the morning?”

She smiled, and her finger drifted down and traced the curve of Adora’s nose, and more of her fingers unclench and joined her pointer as it dragged down to meet Adora’s flushed cheek — inevitably cupping it with her hand. “Never.” She muttered. The hue on Adora’s cheek darkened. 

“Thanks for staying with me, I would’ve been fine on my own.”

“No you wouldn’t.” It was the way that the rising sun hit Adora’s figure, an outline of orange appearing and even making her more heavenly than usual. It was the way on how sweeter the air tasted when Adora was around, on how the oceans blended with her laugh, on how the stars sparkled in her eyes and how the sun kissed her skin. She’s been in love with Adora for the past two years, but she has come to a realization that maybe she wasn’t just in love with Adora, but the world that inhabits her within it. 

“No I wouldn’t.” 

Despite being young, Catra can feel that their souls are old and tired. That they only wish to survive instead of thriving in this horrible world, the last few years of playing god and burning property and chasing magic only contributed to that. They both had longed for a nice bed to lay down in forever, their bones are tired of the past excitement in their lives and they only wanted to settle. And she imagines, if their lips will ever be pressed with one another, if the touch they exchanged between them changes from platonic to lover, they will never go through a honeymoon phase but will rather resemble an old couple, who only needed to be near with one another and doesn’t need to talk or engage in a conversation. She imagines that all they needed was to exchange one look and they would just _know_. 

But it was a dream — only that. A thought that lingers too much, a thought makes her heart flutter and her cheeks warm and it gives her hope of something blossoming between her and Adora, something that was more — because Adora was pure, she was everything good in this world, she makes the flowers more pretty just by breathing, she makes the sun shine even brighter just by walking up — while Catra was the opposite. 

Her throat will not release the sweet mumblings of nonsense, for it has been used as the screams of the vulture and the deceased. She only knows how to scream because of the smoke that is her life has been shoved down her throat, and her excuse of just wanting to make her cold blooded body warm holds no excuse because she has burned buildings and destroyed homes and families with just a single yell. 

And her fingers were calloused from how many times they were wrapped around the trigger that was magic, bones that have scars that have taken another life, palms that will forever be coated in invisible blood. But she didn’t mean any of that, not really. She wasn’t trying to take away people's sources of light, she wasn’t trying to tear apart families and make them cry, she wasn’t trying to be greedy. 

She has only caused destruction, she has destroyed the stars once, she has covered everyone’s path in thick layers of ash, she has ruined lives just because she was a little more powerful than the average witch and she didn’t know how to control it. She didn’t mean any of that — but it happened regardless. No one in their right mind would ever want to start a life with her. 

(And she looks at Adora, and she wonders, 

~~why~~

~~are~~

~~_y o u_ ~~

~~still~~

~~here~~?) 

“You were looking forward to prom since sophomore year, Catra.” Adora broke the silence, her eyes now locked into Catra’s small figure that was being enveloped by her favorite flannel. “What changed?” 

She looks at Adora, to her straight nose and almond shaped eyes, to the scar that started at her jawline and ended at the top corner of her lip, to the small acne scars near her hairline, and says, “can I show you something?”

For the longest time, her magic has only been used to cause distraught and hurt. Maybe it was time for a change. Maybe it was time that her magic didn’t cause tears but rather laughter with flushed cheeks and bright eyes. This entire year has been calm, and peaceful and quiet and everything she and her magic isn’t — but maybe it was time to learn. 

“Are you avoiding the question?”

She shook her head, shifting her position so she was now sitting on her knees and placed both of her hands on Adora’s cheeks, her thumbs rubbing the girls cheekbones as she brought Adora’s head closer until their foreheads were touching, and everything went _bright_.

  
  
  


**(** _Wise Men Say… Only Fools Rush In._ **)**

  
  
  


Sound of laughter seemed to be the loudest thing at the Eternia flower field, coming from two running girls who were getting the hems of their clothes dirty, but they barely paid any attention to that. Adora wrapped her arms around Catra, lifting the girl into the air and twirling them around, before they both collapsed onto the ground in a fit of giggles. Adora had tightened her grip as the two of them laid in the sun, the loose curls of Catra tickling her chin and neck. 

Catra laughed, trying to sit up so she can escape Adora’s grasp but the taller girl didn’t relent. “Let me go!” She said through her laughter, and Adora sat up, shifting Catra so that she was in a more comfortable position in her lap. 

Her hair looked like it was glowing in the sunlight, and Catra’s eyes softened. “Never.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

It was never a question of love. It was never a question on how much Adora loved Catra or how much Catra loved Adora or how much they loved each other, or about their tired bones or their faltering smiles or their exhausted eyes but—

A question about how much the light desires Adora and how much the devil wants Catra to do his bidding and how much that the Earth herself, all those flowers and the tiny grasses they rip out from the ground and let them flutter between their fingers like sand does, wants them together. 

It’s a question if the line of tension will snap, or how the gravity that is stitched in Adora’s skin yearns for the stars in Catra’s chest, or how they longed for their fingers to finally interlock, or how much they wished to press their lips against one another as they exchange the most sweetest of poisons, or how much they didn’t care if they were bad for one another and if it meant salvation to leave each other alone, they would run through hell with a bright grin and wide eyes and lion blood in their veins. 

And maybe if they exchange kisses, she will learn that Catra has the teeth of wolves in all irony, that her skin is made of metal, that her shoulders are tired of carrying the world that Atlas had once did, that her fingertips will always be redder than her plump lips, that her eyes will chase away the stars and the holy light and maybe — maybe Adora didn’t care like how Catra didn’t, because even if her touch burns because she is good and Catra is bad, as long as they have each other, nothing really bad can happen. 

Adora kisses her and all she can feel is the burning light. 

  
  
  


**(** _Shall I Stay? Would it Be a Sin?_ **)**

  
  
  


Her love is renewed everyday. Her hearts sings for the beat in Adora’s chest, her soul longs for the touch of another and when Adora looks at her, she could feel herself being lit on fire, she can feel herself wanting to spend more and more time with this woman who lays in her bed, whose a little older than they were back in high school, a little more mature and a little more experienced in the normal adult world. 

After all these years, she has come to a startling realization — she is allowed to love this perfection of a woman, and she’s allowed to love her back, too. She is allowed to bask in the sunlight of her voice, allowed to feel her pulse and think of greater, brighter things. She is allowed to have this woman in her bed and in her life and it’s enough for her, because as long as those Grey eyes that has hints of the sea storm in them, because as long as those tips of her fingers traces the outline of the uneven patches of melanin on her arms, as long as those lips mumbled and press against the patches of pale skin that she has had since childhood and mumble that they resemble the strips of a tigers — she will never complain about a thing again. 

She felt her lips moving without her consent. “Marry me.”

Adora looks at her with her summer sky eyes, and a large grin splits her face in half. “Where’s my ring, woman.” 

Catra laughed, and Adora has never looked more beautiful than lying in her silk sheets in their shared apartment in the city, the window that had their curtains drawn open allowed the light of the sky to kiss Adora’s pale skin, making it almost glow as if it were moonlight itself. “Are you only after the Prime family banks and legacy? Have I been in love with a gold digger this whole time??”

Adora had laughed, shifting so she could wrap her arms around Catra’s waist and tug the smaller woman down, electing a high pitched squeak from Catra. She smashed her lips against the giggling woman’s cheek, and mumbles, “how in the hell did you find out my master secret plan since I was three?” 

And oh, how Adora had brought Catra down to her knees long ago, knowing that the girl was only looking for an altar to worship. She kissed her and all she can feel is the burning light. 

  
  
  


**(** _Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too._ **)**

  
  
  


She has never in a million years imagined walking down the aisle, her hands wrapped tightly around the only uncle that has ever given a shit about her, her heels breaking the sticks hidden underneath the cloth that was placed on the forest floor. 

She has never imagined getting married in the woods, especially in the spot where Adora had broken her first bone in her forearm, or when Catra had managed to burn an actual tree or the time that Adora had gotten bit by a wolf, forever making her a servant to the holy moon. 

In all actuality, Catra has never imagined getting married, period. 

Yet here she was, donned in an expensive dress that had floral designs, a veil covering the entirety of her face and exposed back as it dragged on the floor, pink and pale blue flowers stitched into it, marigolds and burning incense held tightly between her clenched fingers, as she walked down to a grinning Adora. 

She has never imagined that she would be marrying her best-friend, either, to be honest. And despite the fact that everyone saw it coming the moment the two interacted when they were three, the despite the fact that they knew when they saw Adora’s jealousy when Catra had her first kiss stolen by Lonnie Williams, Catra could never really see it coming. 

Adora was bright and light and innocent — everything that Catra failed to be, everything that she’s not. But she’s willing to try, as the priest proclaims them lovers for life, she’s willing to try as their drunken friends stand on the altar and give incoherent speeches that was made more of giggling than words, she is willing to try as they drive down to the airport, waving their friends goodbye as they did so. And she’s willing to try as sits down on the porch of the many beach houses that had been left in Catra’s name, donning herself in a robe with nothing underneath, her skin littered with the bites and bruises of love, her bones aching for more. 

The sunlight is warm and welcoming and gentle on her exposed chest. She leaned against the rocking chair, causing it to creak lightly and hesitantly against the wooden flooring of the porch, and raised her champagne glass that had coffee inside it to her lips. 

She hears pounding footsteps behind her, and hears the glass door opening and closing gently, and feels the warmth of a large and calloused hand being placed over her collarbones, fingertips nearing the curves of her hidden breasts. “I woke up alone,” the hand drifted up to tuck a loose strand of curls behind her pierced ears, often lingering on the purple bruises she had left behind with her poisonous mouth. “Why are you drinking coffee from a wine glass?”

“It makes me feel fancy,” Catra admitted and Adora let out a quiet chuckle, bending down to press her lips to Catra’s temple. Adora let her hand travel Catra’s arm, until it hovered over her hand holding her drink and took it from the tight grasps of her fingers, placing it on the small table beside the chair. 

“You’re weird, magic lady.”

“I’m your weird magic lady.” 

She picked Catra up, making the smaller girl squeal and automatically wrap her arms around Adora’s neck as she’s being carried in bridal style. “Then show me your magic ways, lady,” Adora grinned as she opened the door, and started a path to the bedroom. “I've always wanted to be cursed in the bedroom!”

Catra let out a laugh as she waved her hand and the door to their bedroom opened, already showcasing a used mattress and blankets and pillows scattered all over the room. “You’re a brute!” Adora’s reply was letting out a laugh and throwing Catra gently on the bed, crawling over the smaller girl with a wicked grin. “Didn’t I show you my ‘magic ways’ at least five times last night?”

“I have a horrible memory.” She grins, and she leans in closer until their foreheads were touching. “You’re gonna have to show it to me again.” 

She kissed her and all she can feel is the burning light. 

  
  
  


**(** _Some Things Are Meant To Be._ **)**

  
  
  


“Beautiful,” Adora mumbled from the chair against the hospital bed, her eyes stuck on the small and bloody thing against Catra’s chest. “Absolutely beautiful.” 

Many would digress, the newly born baby was covered in wrinkles and hasn’t been washed yet — apparently the doctors said that they longed they don’t wash the blood off, more of the baby’s immune system will be built, and it’s a healthy thing for both the mother and the child to have skin to skin contact after being birthed — and while the babes head was already covered in hair, it was stuck to its scalp like watered clothes to skin. Catra would often raise her hand and trace the baby’s face, their nose and their cheeks, and pressed gentle kisses to their eyelids that have not been opened. 

Her skin was tingling, and she can tell that her baby inherited the lion blood in Catra’s veins and the supernova’s in Adora’s. But she hopes that the inheritance stops there, because she never wishes for her babe to have her wilting fingers that they will reply, saying they carry her tenderness well, or her exhausted eyes from seeing the horrors of the world and living to tell the tale, a rage sipping underneath their skin much like Catra’s, already born angry at the world like she was. 

And she wishes that this babe does not have their fate written in the stars much like Catra and Adora, and she wishes that trouble will not take a liking to this babe and follow them through life, because she doesn’t know if she would be able to live with herself if she never finds out how old age looks on her baby, she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to live with herself for birthing a hero to this world, because they never live long and they never live happy. 

And suddenly, she doesn’t want to be good anymore. If it meant keeping her baby safe, she will possess the soul she once had at fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, where she rained blood on the streets and ripped families apart, where she dug her nails into the dirt of the Earth and summoned the most natural disasters to ruin everybody’s life.

She would destroy the world if she had to, if meant keeping her child safe. The thought doesn’t bother her as much as it should. 

She kissed her child on their head and all she can feel is a burning light.

  
  
  


_But I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You_ / **PART** **TWO** /

  
  
  


Her hands slowly slipped from Adora’s cheeks, and her eyes fluttered up to see the flustered face of her best friend since she was three. Those summer eyes, golden locks and moon skin — how could she not? How could she not go through hell itself if it meant only touching her a little longer, if it mean having her eyes in her life until her dying days?

“You love me?” She whispered.

Catra smiled. “Always have.”

She kissed her and she heard the humming birds singing. 

**Author's Note:**

> i was feeling a clustered of a emotions and this came to be, :/ sorry if it doesn’t make sense lmaooo. please comment and leave kudos 🖤 
> 
> this also isn’t edited don’t @ me 🙈


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